


Yes, you do

by 2Loverz



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, Incest, Legolas being a cheeky petulant brat and Thranduil loves it, M/M, Slight Dom/Sub, Swearing, father/son relationship, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Loverz/pseuds/2Loverz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I suck at summaries...<br/>Denying you love fucking your own son, whilst you are in fact in the middle of fucking said son does not make any sense, unless...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes, you do

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Тебе же нравится](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8338360) by [AndreyVas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreyVas/pseuds/AndreyVas)



> Disowner: I don't own them and probably never will  
> Disclaimer: this only happened in my -due to the heat- dizzy brain
> 
> Also: this work is unbeta'ed, so, shall you find any typos or grammar mistakes, please, return them. :D Otherwise enjoy the read!

“But you do love it, my dear father,” Legolas pants moving his hips up so to meet another of his father’s powerful thrusts for added emphasis, “You do lov…,”  
  


Thranduil groans, “Farn, Legolas!” wanting to sound angry and annoyed, but his voice fails him; his words coming out in pants just like his son's.  
  
   
  
He lies atop his son he just scolded, his hips moving in a steady and hard rhythm, sliding his cock in and out of him repeatedly, his face is buried in the crock of the younger one’s neck, his breath dampening the skin as much as do the occasional kiss he presses against the pulsing vein. Feeling it jump beneath his lips and tongue fueling his want even further.  
  
   
  
“No, not enough. Never enough,” he hears his son argue beneath him, “We both know you are addicted to this just as much as I am. The difference, my dearest king, is...” this little shit really dares to chuckle and mock him, “I admit it, whilst you have the nerves to fuck me into this royal bed of yours and still deny you want this.”  
  
   
  
“I. do. Not...” his literal voice of denial falters along with his rhythm before he pushes himself up. His arms keeping him hovering over his son; their faces close enough to share the same breath. He sees his son smirk at him, knows he has something planned. Then he feels a soft fingertip beginning to trace the contours of his face; his jaw, his eyebrows, his lips. He shudders, his son's slow, soft  caress such a contrast to his own driving hips, that are somewhat slower now, but still harsh compared to the actions of his son.  
  


He wants to close his eyes, for the truth shows in them and it  is just too much, too many emotions.  
  
   
  
“Don’t,” Thranduil shivers, unable to do anything but comply the softly spoken demand; his eyes remain open, now deeply locked with the blue ones that look so much like his own.  
  
   
  
As if under a spell they never break eye contact, not until Legolas’ finger finished his journey and the king feels how two hands wind themselves into his blond locks, holding him securely.

 

Having his hair pulled is nothing new to the king -it is one of his countless kinks- but right here it is his very own son doing so, much less in the middle of their love making. Another violent shudder runs through his body as his head is being pulled down. Then...nothing. The kiss he expects never comes. Instead, hot breath puffs against his ear.  
  
   
  
“No, matter how much you deny it, love, your actions betray your words,” even now Thranduil's thrusts didn't stop, if anything the words has them speed up again, “You see, father...,” the satisfying grin returning to his face.

 

His son is a devil within the body of an angelic looking elf Thranduil is certain about that.

 

He then growled, his son was right; his body and actions clearly were betraying every word he said in the past or so hour. His denial made no sense, yet it made perfectly sense.

 

He shakes his head free, using his own hands to press Legolas' into the bed as he resumes giving him the fucking of his young age.  
  
 

The smirk vanishes from Legolas' face replaced with utter bliss, satisfaction rushing through his body, “Yes, father, give your son what he desires to get from you so much,” the provoking note in his voice again clearly audible, and if this wasn't enough, he wrapped his legs around his king's slender waist, making sure he would keep on fucking him good. Not that Legolas really thought his father would stop anytime soon. He felt it gave him a certain power over him, hearing him deny loving fucking his son just while he was fucking said son. It stirred something in his loins that brought him even closer to the brink. This also was why for his constant use of 'father' and 'son', to literally scream out their forbidden and illicit natured coupling. Knowing, within these walls, his father's chambers their secret was safe. Here he could scream as loud as his heart and lust desired, and just like that he keeps on throwing strings of sinful and filthy words at his king.  
  
 

“Fuck yes, father. Fuck me. Really give it to me. Fuck your son's ass hard, just like we both know you love to,”  what just a few minutes ago was a request has turned into a clear demand. Only he would dare to speak to Thranduil in such manner. While his hands meanwhile roaming freely his father's broad back and shoulders, leaving angry, red scratches behind -some deep enough to draw blood- everytime Thranduil bottomed out and hits the sweet little spot deep inside him. Thranduil hisses each time when one of the fingernails abusing his back claw deep enough for him to know his back will be in need of a serious healing the next day.

 

“Shit, yes, right there. Right...there. Harder. Faster. Please. Gimme.” hearing Legolas say those dirty words, not Thranduil himself could deny that hearing him begging with his sweet voice, throwing such filthy words at him did hold a certain appeal. An appeal to which the king was helpless, silent curses inside his head, why his son had to have such a frivolous mouth on him followed suit.

 

Something primal awoke within him; his movements changing from fast and hard to thorough and demanding, still powerful enough to drive them both towards their peak.

 

“So close, father, so close,” and again “Please,” left the prince's lips in a rush as he felt his father push into him with more control now, really making him feel every inch. He himself would never have so much crontol over his body; were he in his father's position he most probably wouldn't be doing anything but snapping his hips in chase of his own climax. He marveled his father's strength.  

 

Now it was Thranduil's turn to smirk, he really loved having reduced him to a whimpering, babbling mess. One thing he did never and would never deny.

 

“I might not like it, but you clearly do,” the king spoke as if he just wasn't fucking Legolas into oblivion, “otherwise you would not be begging me to finally make you come,” his voice copying the same mocking undercurrent his son's had earlier on.

 

“Yes, yes, to all of, but please, make me come. I beg you, ADA!”

 

One second, one thrust later -as if this word was wired to his dick- Thranduil spilled himself empty into the depth of his son's tight passage, slicking it up to push and pull smoothly until his orgasm ebbed away and he began to soften.

 

This one innocent yet fateful word, uttered by his son never lacked ability to push him over the edge- whenever they were engaged in this sinfully beautiful act.

 

A sinful act Legolas knew exactly how to finish, he knew his father's weakness, to be called that in this very situation and he was using it against him shamelessly. Feeling his ass being filled with his father's hot semen and one single word spilling from Thranduil's lips had him come in return.

 

It worked both ways, also Thranduil knew Legolas' weakness, to only come when he would allow him to do so. Not sooner, before he heard his father say this one word, he would come.

 

“Come!” these four letters was all it took for Legolas do let go and give himself over to the power of the orgasm rippling through his body not a second later.  
  
 

Minutes later,  both elves laid on their backs, they were staring at the ceiling. Panting, trying to remember how to breath properly and come back to their senses after this animalistic act of love.

 

Legolas was the first who tried to make an attempt to speak, his voice still rough from all the screaming “This was...”

  
   
“Perfect” Thranduil added laughing and flung an arm over his own face, apparently on good terms with the whole breathing thing. His chest still rising and falling heavily anyway.  
  
   
  
“Indeed, it was. Thank you!” he heard his son whisper a few moments later and a kiss was pressed against his cheek.  
  
   
  
“You are most welcome,” the affection and sincerity clearly audible in his voice, he then chuckles,“I assume I do not have to ask if everything was to your satisfaction?”  
  
   
  
Suddenly feeling giddy, Legolas giggled,  “I think it is quite obvious how satisfied I am, isn't it. And you too, if I may say that,” Figuring this rather un-royal sound must be a side-effect of his climax, he just prompted to ignore it.  
  
   
  
Now the king's chuckle turned into a hearty laugh, one Legolas rarely sees and hears from his father outside these rooms.  
  
   
  
“I would say we both are quite satisfied. Why don't we go and take a shower, to cool down a little?”  
  
   
  
“So, we can get each other hot and dirty again after,” Legolas teased and earned himself a slap on his ass just as he rose from the bed. He yelped, yet couldn't help but smirk.  
  
   
  
“Never would I have thought that my son is so naughty and speaks in such lewd manner to his own father,” the king rolled his eyes in played annoyance.  
  
   
  
Not impressed by the rebuke Legolas just grinned, batting his eyelashes he remarked “Well, but think, my dearest father, you are the one who just fucked your very own son, until he spills himself over this fine duvet. Doesn't this excuse my luscious mouth and doesn't this also tell you where my naughtiness comes from?”

 

_Touché!_

 

Legolas' voice was pure seduction, Thranduil could not describe it any other way. If he wasn't in need of a good, long shower he would have taken his son again, right there, right this moment. On the bed again or on the floor, he didn't care.

 

Thranduil sighs, his son was right. “As always, you are right, now off we go to the shower, I really need one right now.”  
  
 

 

  
  
The slippery bathroom floor didn't keep Legolas from throwing himself in his father's arms and hugging him tightly.  
  
 

“Seriously, though, thank you for everything, but especially for doing me the favor of tonight,”  
  
   
  
The fierce embrace startled Thranduil, and before he could respond he was being kissed.  
 

 

“It was my pleasure. But tell me, why were you so hesitant to tell me about your wish?” he asked once the younger one deemed his mouth explored enough- for now at least.  
  
   
  
Legolas felt his cheeks turn scarlet, probably reaching the tip of ears. “Because I know of your own hesitation when it came to you and I starting this relationship, how much you wanted and yet not wanted it, because I am your son. I didn't want to make you feel guilty or regret anything we have done so far. But...” taking a deep breath he paused before he explained further, “I must confess it holds a certain appeal to hear have you...fuck me whist you deny that you like fucking me, also to tell you you like it until you can't do anything but fuck me even harder, not wanting to hear the truth to your actions.” Not daring to look into his father's eyes, he hung his head in shame, but Thranduil would have none of it.  
  
   
  
Granted, Thranduil was taken aback by this detailed and very honest confession, but didn't judge him one bit. “No, don't. Look at me.” he softly touched his son's chin to make him look at him, “I am deeply sorry my initial hesitation caused you now to hold back telling me about your wish,” an assuring kiss on the always-tempting lips followed. “Legolas,” his hands softly framed his son's face, “from now I want you to tell me every wish, every desire of yours. Don't ever feel like you can't trust me with whatever it is you want to have fulfilled, you hear me? You tell me, and we will figure something out.”

 

The prince nods. Then another tender kiss was bestowed upon his lips.  
  
   
  
“That's my good boy, now there is a shower waiting for us”

 

Without his permission the prince's lips moved and spilled free another wicked dream of his, putting Thranduil's words into  action right away, “Ada, there is something I would like to do in these showers,”

 

The king's eyes widened and the smile spread across his face showed the white of his teeth, “My my, I am most curious what this might be,”  
  
 

Shamelessly indulging in the privilege of seducing and flirting with his father so openly and the king had no objections whatsoever, Legolas bit his lip, “Follow me and I will show you!”

 

 

Seven words that sounded very promising and had Thranduil's dick twitch in anticipation.

**Author's Note:**

> Farn = enough  
> Ada = Dad/daddy


End file.
